


A Heart is Not a Plaything

by Sparrow (hersilentlanguage)



Series: Four Hearts as One(shots) [3]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bad Things Happen To Carlos, Hurt/Comfort, Isle of the Lost (Disney) is a Terrible Place, Maleficent is a Bad Mother, Multi, Mystery, POV Carlos de Vil, Physical Abuse (implied), emotional/verbal abuse, prompt: core four reacting to abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hersilentlanguage/pseuds/Sparrow
Summary: Carlos heard a scoff from somewhere ahead of him; again, that voice like crunching ice spoke: “What’s so special about this one, hmm? Tell me, Mal! Go on! I’m simplydyingto know—” There was a pause, and a sound like straining bones beneath the soft shuffle of woollen robes. “—because from where I’m sitting, my little spark, it almost looks like youcareabout this… unfortunate thing you’ve stolen.”“I didn’tstealhim, mother,” Mal grit out. “I claimed him as mine. He’s been mine for years—”“Oh, has he?” came the sharp reply, a strange sort of humour laced all through the words.
Relationships: Carlos & Cruella de Vil (mentioned), Evie/Carlos de Vil, Evie/Jay/Mal/Carlos de Vil, Jay/Carlos de Vil, Mal & Maleficent (Disney), Mal/Carlos de Vil
Series: Four Hearts as One(shots) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929922
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	A Heart is Not a Plaything

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! Happy October! I'm back with a **prompt from @mycroftinthemindpalace (Tumblr):** _"Any of the Core Four see Cruella hit Carlos, and lose their minds about it, together or separately."_ I had a few ideas, but ultimately, I decided to go with perhaps the loosest interpretation of this prompt. Instead of telling the story of what happened, I'm going to tell you the story of what happened _after_. I wrote this from Carlos' POV (third person, but limited to his perceptions), so you'll find there's some things you'll need to piece together along with him. There's plenty of clues to infer what's going on, but a little mystery is intentional to make the POV more authentic.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy! This is the most extensively Maleficent has featured in my work thus far, and it was very interesting to explore her character more, as well as her (incredibly toxic) relationship with Mal. How their dynamic ended up being a major focus in answer to a Carlos-centric prompt, you're about to find out, I guess. ;)
> 
> **General CW: parental abuse (mostly emotional/verbal; physical implied), medication usage/mention, blood mention, minor swearing. Please check the end notes for a more detailed CW (if you don't mind spoilers).**

_How long had there been darkness?_

Carlos didn’t know, couldn’t remember.

He tried to open his eyes, make sense of his feet, think clear enough to be sure he wasn’t dreaming, and then to know where he was waking. His mother’s closet? _No. Must be_ — _the hideout?_ That was… Mal’s voice, he was sure now, but—she sounded… not quite herself. He had to listen harder. _Listen._

“—because he’s _mine_ ,” Mal was saying, her voice too loud in his ears, “and if she breaks him—”

“You’ll find other toys,” came the bored reply—that voice like Mal’s but so much colder.

 _Fuck. Where was he, where was he? What had happened? Why was she—if that was her—and it had to be—_

“I WANT THIS ONE.”

Carlos shivered beneath the skin, more and more aware of his body. He felt a heaviness, like gravity returning—a heaviness like he were _meant_ to fall, but couldn’t. He blinked back shadows until the world appeared, though all he could really see of it were his own feet, his bent knees, his limp hands—

He heard a scoff from somewhere ahead of him; again, that voice like crunching ice spoke: “What’s so special about this one, hmm? Tell me, Mal! Go on! I’m simply _dying_ to know—” There was a pause, and a sound like straining bones beneath the soft shuffle of woollen robes. “—because from where I’m sitting, my little _spark,_ it almost looks like you _care_ about this… unfortunate thing you’ve stolen.”

“I didn’t _steal_ him, mother,” Mal grit out. “I claimed him as mine. He’s been mine for years—”

“Oh, has he?” came the sharp reply, a strange sort of humour laced all through the words.

(There was a long quiet after that—then, a piercing laugh and a shallow exhale.)

 _“Mal,”_ someone murmured in a warning tone, the rumble of their voice felt all through Carlos’ body.

He blinked back into focus, suddenly aware of the feeling of Jay’s heartbeat, the sound of his breath, and the warmth of his arms hooked beneath Carlos’ own. He was sure if Jay were to let go now—

_But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t._

“Shut up,” Mal hissed, drawing Carlos’ attention. He couldn’t find the energy to lift his head enough to see her, but he was pretty sure she was the shadow in the corner of his eye. The flash of green he’d caught made him more sure, in retrospect. _Where was Evie, though? And where was here? Outside...? No._

Carlos lost his train of thought when That Voice began to speak again.

“You still haven’t told me why…”

“Why?” Mal echoed, a tinge of apprehension, maybe even fear in her tone.

(Carlos wondered if only he could hear it, or if he’d imagined it altogether.)

“Yes, _why—”_ A loud bang sounded, making Jay jolt and Carlos flinch against him. “—are you _here?_ Why are you dirtying my floor? _Why…_ are you asking me to intervene in this, Mal Bertha Moors?”

Mal’s stutter was easy to miss, but Carlos was sure he heard it: “I-I told you—”

Another bang interrupted.

“WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME ANYTHING? WHO ARE YOU, HALF-BREED?”

(Carlos felt Jay’s muscles tense, felt him draw his body in a little closer.)

“I-I’m your daughter,” Mal whispered, maybe more to herself than to her mother.

Something in her voice made Carlos want to look away, though he couldn’t even see her properly. He closed his eyes against the sound of her soft, shuddering exhale, for what little that was worth.

“Mal, let’s just—” Jay went suddenly quiet, and Carlos figured Mal must have glared at him; then, his ears attuned to that same sound as before: the straining of bones and the rustling of thick wool.

“Not because you deserve it, not because you have _earned_ it...”

“I know,” Mal said quietly, “but I—”

“—will not interrupt your _queen_ when she addresses you,” came the hiss of an answer.

The silence thickened over several seconds, and Jay’s breathing grew more and more shallow.

“This once, Mal…” (Carlos opened his eyes again, stared hard at his shoes as he listened.) _“This once,_ I will humour you and your childish attachments, _but—”_ (There was a tense pause.) “—if you throw your bones at my feet like this _ever again,_ I will not so much as ask you which wolf to feed before I’m rid of them, _do you understand?”_

“Yes, mo—”

“Yes, your _Maleficence.”_

“Yes, your Maleficence,” Mal repeated, her voice so soft and strained, she didn’t sound herself at all.

Jay shifted slightly, dragging Carlos back a half-step. He blinked down at his boots and the blood-stained stones, wondering for a moment how long they’d been there for his blood to have dried.

_Oh, but—not his blood. Not his, no—_

_That wasn’t the right colour for human._

“Mal? I’ve promised you nothing.”

“I know…”

There was no dismissal, except for maybe a gesture that Carlos had missed. He couldn’t seem to find the energy to lift his head even now, so he had little sense of anything but the fact that Jay was taking him somewhere, and—far as he could tell, out of the corner of his eye—Mal seemed to be following, rather than leading. (She didn’t speak for at least a minute; not until they were out from… _wherever._ )

“Stop,” she said abruptly, making Jay pause mid-step.

Carlos watched Mal’s boots come toe-to-toe with his; then, suddenly, her hand appeared—

“He looks awake,” she muttered as she lifted his chin with a hint of a scowl. “How long?”

Carlos blinked at her, confused. _He, as in... himself?_ _Why was she talking to him like he wasn’t him…?_

“Don’t know, but... a while, I think,” Jay murmured, adjusting his grip under Carlos’ armpits.

Mal breathed out a sigh. “So, you heard all that, huh?”

“Might not remember tomorrow,” Jay said quietly, when Carlos didn’t answer.

(He couldn’t feel his tongue—or rather, he could, but it felt fuzzy and limp and not-tongue-enough.)

The sound of hurried footsteps starting suddenly out of the quiet caused Mal to whirl so quickly that she forgot she’d been propping Carlos’ chin up. His head fell forward and hung there, lolling back and forth like a rusty, stuttering pendulum. (He could hear Mal talking to someone, but who—?)

“It’s just Evie,” Jay murmured, reaching to cup Carlos’ head with one hand while using the other to guide him around. (Carlos meant to nod in answer, but never actually did.) He slumped heavily into Jay’s chest, not even trying to hold onto him. His arms were like lead.

“Here, don’t worry, I’ve got you…”

Jay hoisted Carlos off the ground with a soft grunt. He slipped an arm around Carlos’ waist, the other under his bottom in a way that some part of his mind complained was too embarrassing to allow, yet—he was so tired, he just surrendered to it—couldn’t seem to really, _honestly_ care, no matter any part of him that might want to. His eyes fell half-shut, and he let his head drop onto Jay’s shoulder.

“—until tomorrow,” Evie was saying, slightly out of breath as she addressed Mal. “I told her we’d do it in the morning, and as long as everything’s done by noon, I don’t think she’ll…” Evie trailed off, and though Carlos couldn’t see her, he felt the weight of her eyes as she asked, “Is he awake…?”

No one answered that Carlos could tell; but Jay turned slightly at the same time that Evie stepped to his side, appearing in Carlos’ line of sight as a blue-tinged shadow, silhouetted by the dim lavender light of mid-evening. “Hey there, pup,” she whispered, reaching up to brush his curls back with a sad smile. “Don’t fall asleep yet, okay? Not until I get a proper look at you, at least.”

Carlos stared at her tiredly, barely able to muster a low whine in answer.

“Oh, I know, I know,” said Evie, voice warm and sympathetic.

He wanted to ask her what she knew, wanted to ask her what happened, why he felt so strange; but before he could even try, Mal’s hand was on Evie’s shoulder. “We should go now,” she said lowly.

Evie sighed but nodded, stepping back to address Jay. “Make sure he stays awake.” She glanced at Carlos, who hadn’t looked away from her, his expression unreadable but for the sheer exhaustion. “Whatever he took today, it’s wearing off. If the pain hits, just…” She sucked in a breath. “Try not to jostle him too much. I’ll put him under again when we know what we’re dealing with…”

“You got it, princess,” Jay replied with a hint of a smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe.”

Evie tried for a smile, as well, as she looked at Jay. “I know you will.”

With that, she reached for Mal’s hand, pulling her ahead of Jay, out of Carlos’ range of vision—

“Time we get you home,” Jay murmured, starting after the girls.

 _Home,_ thought Carlos, blinking sleepily as he watched Jay’s heels flash in and out of his view.

He’d never used that word for anything, really, but if the four of them were going somewhere…

Well, maybe that _was_ the word they should use for it, yeah.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated! I'd love to hear your thoughts, but no pressure. <3
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for lots more Descendants content: [@hersilentlanguage](http://hersilentlanguage.tumblr.com)
> 
>  **CW:** POV character is heavily intoxicated (effects of injury and medication, not alcohol), emotional/verbal parental abuse (Mal & Maleficent), physical parental abuse heavily implied but not shown (Carlos & Cruella), heavy implication of prescription drug abuse (not an addiction, just a slight overdose to deal with pain), blood mention, minor swearing.


End file.
